The Tale Of Theoden
by CommanderNeyo
Summary: Leomer is a Minstrel, wondering the lands of Middle Earth, telling his tall tales to those who ask, as well as pay. But one day he must revisit a story he hasn't told in a loooong time, and remember his past.


Theoden Ednew

Leomer sat in his chair. His lute beside him and a pint of mead in his hand. He looked around the old tavern. It had been standing since the beginning of the third age, its walls hallowed with history. This tavern stood when the Rohirrim retreated to Helms Deep, when the armies of Sauron marched across the land, and when the age of man finally came to be. He looked at the patrons, many of them were shyte faced and howlling to each other their exploits of the day.

"And then I bought that horse for 20 instead of 40!"

"I went to the lass' house and I gave her a good seeing to."

Leomer chuckled to himself, these fools, these drunk old fools. While many were young, it was the old telling the wildest of tales. But one caught Leomer's attention, one he had never heard told in all the taverns he's visited.

"I saw Theoden walking today, I tell ya he looked as stoic as he used to."

Leomer rose out of his seat: "So you've seen the great king Theoden have ya?"

"Yes I have, he was walking through these streets as he always does."

"The king's been dead for years, give it up you old fool." yelled another patron from across the tavern

"Well I say it's time for a story don't you." Leomer said, picking up his lute

"Why not the story of Theoden, the great king of Rohan?"

Hoots, hollers, and agreements accompanied that request, and Leomer was happy to oblige, after all, what would a minstrel be but not an entertainer.

Leomer strummed a few chords on his lute

"Gather round you travelers and weary, let me regale you the tale of the Great King Theoden"

The customers fell silent, the only thing that could be heard was the lute and a couple tankards hitting the table after their contents were drained.

"_Theoden, son of Thengel, former King of Rohan born in Edoras, was a wise man and a fair ruler. He ruled our lands for 40 years. Forty years of peace and prosperity he brought with him, until he came. Upon his 40th year he looked as if he had aged twice as much. Old and frail, he was poisoned by his chief aid, Wormtongue was his name. As the king sat in his chair, old and tired, Wormtongue betrayed his master and offered his services to that evil wizard: Saruman The White. With his magic Wormtongue controlled the wise king, and made him more and more complacent. So complacent that on the day his own son Theodred died in combat against the dreaded orcs, that he did nothing to stop Wormtongue from banishing his heir Eomer from the lands of the Rohirrim. All seemed grim for us, until the arrival of the four heroes of old. Gandalf the White, Aragorn II Elessar, Legolas Greenleaf, and Gimli, son of Gloin. Initially, under the influence of Wormtongue, he rebuked the pleas of help from the four adventurers. But the great wizard Gandalf was not one to be trifled with. He used his magic to break the hold Wormtongue had on Theoden, releasing him from Saruman's grip. With a renewed vigor he ordered Eomer to return and his sword be given to him. He led our people to the great Hornburg, where he made his stand against the Orcs. He was soon joined by the Elves of Rivendell, led by the Haldir, who had come to hold true to the alliance between Elves and men. All who could were mustered for battle. Men and boys were given armor and weapons to fight against the army of darkness. When they came they held strong, defending the halls from the Orcs. But alas they could not hold the wall. A blast, larger than the tower, felled a section of the wall, allowing the Orcs to spill into the city. Theoden and whatever men he had left defended the inner walls as best they could. But Theoden knew they could not win. But instead of dying like a coward behind his walls, he chose to ride, saying the Aragorn "__**I will not end here, taken like an old badger in a trap. When dawn comes, I will bid men sound Helm's horn, and I will ride forth. Will your ride with me, then, son of Arathorn? At least...we may make such an end, as will be worth a song!" **__with thunder in their hooves they rode out to do battle against the Orcs. They hacked and hewed their way through the orc ranks. But just as they thought he would die, the wizard Gandalf returned, with the Riders of Rohan in tow, led by the king's nephew. Together they routed the orcs and sent them back to Isengard. All seemed at peace, until the dark lord sent his troops against the great city of Minas Tirith. When the call came for help, Theoden was the first to respond. He brought his men to the fields of Pelennor, where the armies of darkness were gaining ground against the warriors of Gondor. Theoden rallied his men with a great cry: __**"Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! Spears shall be shaken, Shields shall be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor! Death! Death! Death! Forth Eorlingas"**__ with a loud shout the Riders charged the enemy hord, shattering their lines and spreading fear among the orcs. He challenged "The Black Serpent" of the Southrons to single combat. An intense battle was had between them. Swords and shields clashing like thunder, blows and parries exchanged. Theoden slew the beast, winning him glory and showing the enemy the spirit of the Rohirrim. But the King soon faced a foe that no man has walked from alive. He challenged the Witch King, the leader of the Dark Lords Ringwraiths. He fought as best he could, but alas was knocked unconscious by the Wraith, while his horse fell upon him after being spooked by the beast the Wraith was riding upon. The king was sure as dead, if not for the heroics of his daughter Eowyn, and an unusual ally in the Hobbit known as Meriadoc Brandybuck who had ridden to the battle against the orders of the King. when the Wraith taunted her, she replied "I am no man." and slew the creature. But it was too late, the wounds dealt to the King had been fatal. Theoden would die in combat, just as he wanted to. His body was held in the White City until it was returned to rest here in Edoras. Songs were written about him by many, but none so well known as the song written by the minstrel Gleowine:_

(the crowd sang along in a more sombre tone)

_**Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day's rising**_

_**he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.**_

_**Hope he rekindled, and in hope he ended;**_

_**over death, over dread, over doom lifted**_

_**out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.**_

"That my friends...is the tale of the great king."

A patron rose from their seat "how do you know so much about this story? We've all read it hundreds of times in books yet your story is different.

Leomer laughed "one hears many things on their travels, you'd do well to travel the world and see for yourself."

But little did they know that I, Leomer, son of Eowyn and Faramir, grandson of Theoden, was told this story by my mother and father, who had seen these battles with their very own eyes.


End file.
